Creating a new world under his fingertips
by Araanaz
Summary: Alternate Universe. Ginny, Ron and Hermione are friends (brother and sister for two of them) and Harry is an artist. Well, I don't know what else to say except HP/GW big time.
1. I want to paint you

****

Creating a New World (Under his Fingertips)

****

By Araanaz

Disclaimer: Guess what? Nothing's mine!   
**Summary: **It's an alt. universe... I so like to write those! Ginny, Hermione and Ron are friends. Harry is an artist. They meet... You'll have to read if you wanna know more!   
**Rating: **R, for the moment…  
**Authors Note: **This is for my little sis, Tori... Thank you for letting me lie and create new worlds! You know where this comes from… And you know that I'll be waiting for YOUR part of the deal, now.

****

  
Part 1 

"Oh my god! This place is so disgusting! I mean, look at this, I'm sure they don't even know what is a butterbeer!" 

"Ginny! You're the one who insisted on coming here!" Hermione replied to her friend, but totally agreeing. They had just entered a little night-club, one of those smoky and smelly place frequented only by weirdoes of first type. 

"Well, yeah! But, I mean, how could I possibly know this was so... YUK!" Ginny looked in disgust around her. 

Hermione gave her a look and raised her eyebrow. They smiled at each other before turning to the third of their threesome. 

"Ron!" They said together, their voice like honey. 

"No! Huh-uh! You made me drive you here, there's no turning back!" He backed away, seeing them approaching. 

"Ron, please!" Ginny pleaded, a smile in her eyes. 

"Be the hero I've always known and rescue us, poor ladies in distress, from this awful place!" Hermione added, dramatising the situation playfully. 

Ron sighed. "How could I ever refuse something to my ladies when they ask me that way! You sure know how to use me girls." 

"Yes, we know, and we love it!" Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck. 

"We love you!" Ginny added, grabbing his arms as the two girls begun to ravage his cheeks with kisses. 

"Okay, okay! Let's just leave!" Ron chuckled. 

"Wait! I need to go to the toilet!" Hermione exclaimed suddenly. 

"In this place?" Ron frowned. 

"Emergency! The red alert..." 

Ron made a disgusted face. "Okay, leave the details!" 

"I'll go with you." Ginny said solemnly, locking arms with her friend. The two girls left. 

******* 

Harry sat at in a corner of the bar. He didn't particularly liked the place, but there were some interesting point, like the way the lack of light created shadow on every faces, making them look sadder. He let his hand draw about everything that caught his eyes: the hand of that boy on his girlfriend's hip, that girl's hair falling lightly on her shoulder, that other girl's breast... He liked movement, expression of life under his fingertips. And suddenly, life itself past just by his side. He looked at the red haired girl as she walked through the room, her hips swinging with natural sensuality. She stopped by the ladies washroom and waited as her friend, a petite brunette entered. Harry was drawn by the light she emanated. 

******* 

Ginny waited outside the toilets. She couldn't wait to leave that place. People in there were so weird, in a bad way. She was deep in her thoughts when she heard a deep voice. She turned to see a tall man with spiky raven hair. 

"W-what?" She asked, locking eyes with him. She didn't even noticed her legs going weak. 

"I said, I want to paint you." Harry repeated calmly, his eyes deeply into hers. Seeing her confusion, he added: "I'm an artist. I paint people. I'd like to paint you." 

"Paint me, huh? What kind of painting do you do?" She asked cautiously, not wanting to admit herself she was thrilled by this stranger and the intense way he was looking at her. 

"I do every kind." He replied simply, hiding a smile at the thought of the ideas probably running into her head. He handed her a piece of paper. "Here, don't call, just come." He said before leaving. 

Ginny stayed there, looking at the paper where he scrawled his address. She was so concentrated on it she never noticed Hermione getting out of the washroom.

"What's this?" She asked, taking the paper from Ginny's hand. 

"Oh, it's hum... Hermione! You wouldn't believe what just happened to me! I met an artist and he want to paint me! Oh my god! Hermione! If you had seen him, he was so handsome!" Ginny started babbling excitedly. 

"You're not planning on going, do you?" Hermione asked cautiously. 

"Why?" Ginny was pulled out of her excitement. 

"Ginny! You don't know that guy! He may just want to, you know, do some other things than painting with you! It could be dangerous. Tell me you're not going to just let that happen!" 

"No... No, of course not." Ginny replied, not quite convinced herself. Hermione frowned. 

"Let's just leave." 

To be continued…

Okay, this may be a bit weird, but I just want to remind you that it's an alternate universe. Ginny and the others never met Harry. Anyway, tell me if I should keep it coming.


	2. I still want to paint you

****

Part 2

"Hermione! If you had seen him! He was so hot with his hair all messy and his eyes were so intense, I mean, the way he looked at me, I thought I would just die! And his hands, for Merlin's sake! When he gave me that paper, they were so warm and..." 

"Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed, interrupting her friend's rambling. 

"What?" Ginny replied, almost in the same tone. 

"It's just that... You promised you wouldn't go!" 

"I promised I wouldn't let anything bad happen." Ginny stated. "And I will keep that promise, I promise." She smiled proudly at her best friend who returned the smile with much less confidence. 

******* 

Harry sat in his apartment, looking at his still white canvas, playing thoughtfully with his paintbrush. Ever since he had met this colourful girl, his mind had been so filled up by her light... He hadn't been able to paint or draw anything. He closed his eyes, trying to recreate perfectly every curves of her face. There was something about it, something that made it so much more interesting than all the other faces he had painted. And he had painted a lot of them. He had explored so many faces, in their every details... and so many bodies by the same way. 

But it was different with her. She was... refreshing! She made him think of the lightning. It always came when it was so dark and clouded and it just made everything brighter around for the instant it flashed in the sky. He only wished the instant wasn't so short, 'cause it was so quickly gone that he couldn't quite picture what it really looked like. That was it! He hadn't been around her long enough, and now he was stuck with incomplete flashes of her. He wished he could go back to that night and freeze everything just long enough to learn her every colours by heart. Especially that gold in her eyes... And that light tone of pink on her cheeks. 

******* 

The sky was dark and clouded. People were hurrying up so they would not be caught by the storm. On the corner of the street, a young woman with particular golden eyes and pink cheeks was waiting for the pedestrian signal. She impatiently put her hair back behind her ear and shivered. It was colder than she had thought. The little white man finally lighted up and she went on her way quickly. She glanced nervously at the little piece of paper in her hand and let out a big sigh when she saw the same number above the door of a building. The stairs made noise under her feet. Apartment 7. There it was. She knocked lightly on the wooden door, closing briefly her eyes, trying to contain her excitement. 

The door slowly opened on him. She saw what seemed to be surprise crossed his eyes, but it quickly disappeared to be replaced by something else... A spark. He ran his hand through his hair already stiffened by the coloured paint. She smiled. 

"Am I disturbing you, or something?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. 

He looked at her for a moment, wondering if she was just another of his flashes. But the vision was too perfect this time, and she was still there, staring at him, waiting for an answer. 

"Come in." He said simply, opening the door wider. 

Ginny entered his apartment and it was like she was entering inside his world. The room was full of colours, most of all dark ones. There was pictures and drawings and paintings everywhere around, in no particular order, or if there was order, she didn't quite understood it. She turned to look at him and once again he was staring at her that way. The way he had when she had first met him. She sucked in her breath and was surprise to feel so at ease under his intense gaze. 

"So, you wanted me, here I am! What are you planning to do with me?" She asked before realising what she was saying and how it might have sounded to him. 

"I still want to paint you." 

TBC... 

Will he get to? Depends on the reviews I'll be getting…


	3. Respect of the artist

Part 3

Painting was such an easy thing to do. Just some colored stuff you dropped on something to make various forms. But when those forms became alive and began to dance under your fingertips, the easy thing to do became something else... A passion. An intense need to lose yourself in that infinite fête of colors until you forgot the world you really came from. The real world wasn't worth it anyway... And painting was like creating a new world, a better place, with every move of your hands. Just like magic, under your fingertips.

Harry let the magic work, his eyes alternating between Ginny and his canvas, which he was caressing lightly with his paintbrush. Sometimes, when he allowed his eyes to wander down her face to the curves of her whole body, he would use his fingers to draw her, like he was touching her for real.

Ginny shifted impatiently in her seat. It took longer than she thought it would. And the heavy silence was driving her crazy. She could hear every single time the paintbrush touched the canvas. That was about the only sound around. That and, from time to time, his breathing becoming louder, quicker... Like he was excited about something. But he was only painting her. She shook her head slightly.

"Can I see?" She asked, her voice a little hoarse for she hadn't spoken in a while.

"No." He answered, without even looking up. She let out a little sigh of exasperation. "You'll have to learn to be a little more patient. Model cannot see before it's completely done. It's what we call, the respect of the artist. Some artists don't even show their painting to their models."

"But you'll show me, right? Don't tell I'm sitting here forever for something I'll never get to see!" She cried out.

"Stay still, would you." He smirked. "And I appreciate silence when I work, it's good for my concentration."

Ginny opened her mouth to cry in outrage, but she just remained quiet. He was challenging her, staring at her with that spark in his eyes. He was trying to possess her. But she was going to be the one in control. She knew, behind that nonchalance, he was hiding desire. She could feel it from across the room. And that desire had grown more and more intense from the very first time he laid his paintbrush on the new her on his canvas. But he had stayed incredibly cool until then, washing away the sweat on his forehead, from time to time, with his hand covered of paint, each time letting a trail of different color... Green, red, peach... And for a moment, she wished he could let those colorful trace on her own skin. Her real skin. She breathed deeply, reminding herself not to let him have her.

Not yet.

Harry heard her breath become heavier. He looked up an instant, just long enough to glance at her now flushed face. She really was fascinating. He wished he could paint those vibes she was emanating, integrate them into his every line so he could feel them every time he looked at the painting. It was intoxicating him. It made him feel all dizzy, like his eyes were glazed or something. He closed his eyes, trying to regain control over his own want. 

"It's too hot in here. Let's take a break." He wanted his voice steady, firm as usual, but it only sounded like the low groan of his repressed desire. He cursed himself for it when he saw her eyes lit up in victory. She had won this battle, but the day was far from over. And so was his work, which he wanted to be perfect... As perfect as her.

"So, is that what you do for a living?" Ginny asked as she sat in the tiny kitchen, at least, the little corner that was reserved for it. She couldn't help her curiosity about that magnetic but mysterious guy. "I mean, all the artistic stuff..."

Harry handed her a glass of water and, taking one for himself, he sat in front of her. "You can say that. I got a scholarship to go to art school. They say I'm talented. Well, I can't complain, I paint and I get paid for it. That's everything I need." With that statement, he took his last draught before leaning against the table, his eyes staring intensely again.

"You really did all of those?" Ginny asked, getting up, trying to get that hot feeling in her belly to calm down a little as she got away from him, concentrating on one of the painting on the wall.

"I did." Harry answered, his gaze never loosing its intensity on her. He stood up and slowly closed the distance between them, enjoying the effect his now total control of the situation was having on her whole body.

"You're not tired of looking at me? You did it for like three hours non-stop!" She laughed in a vain attempt to lighten the heavy sensation that was pressing on her stomach. She unconsciously moisten her lips. 

He didn't answer, but took a step forward, making their bodies so close they were almost touching. Almost. And Ginny found herself aching for that feeling of physical contact that he was still not allowing her. She tilted her head, her eyes half closed, her mouth opening to let out a light sigh. It almost did it for him. Almost.

"Break time is over." He bent down and whispered in her ear. She shivered under his hot breath before glaring at him for ruining the moment. He smirked at her expression.

"Let's work." He said out loud, walking away from her, back to his paintbrushes.

TBC...


	4. Pleasing you, or not

Part 4

Breath in.

Tic-tic.

Breath out.

Tic-tic. Tic-tic.

And the paintbrush hit the canvas.

It was becoming more and more difficult to concentrate. The air was hot, humid, sticky... And the odour of perspiration was mixing with the peculiar smell of paint. But it wasn't unpleasant, strangely, it was exciting, stimulating their senses to the presence of the other. Harry rose his eyes just in time to see her lick her lips, creating a glowing moisture. Subconsciously, he ran his tongue on his. Ginny caught his move and smiled. She ran her hand on the back of her hair, letting it slide on her side, contouring carefully her breast, making its way to her stomach before landing lightly on her hip. She saw his eyes following every moves of her hand and tried to give him that intense look that was making her shiver. It was his turn to shiver. He shifted on his seat, dropping his paintbrush that fell on the floor in a big splash of red paint. He got up and almost send flying everything around him, including the canvas, but his eyes never left her, hypnotised that he was by her every moves.

"Needing another break time already Mister the artist?" She asked teasingly, tilting her head on one side.

He glared at her, letting out a small groan. "Don't play that game with me." He mumbled.

"You started it." She replied, enjoying what she was doing to him. 

"Well, then we'll play by my rules." He stated, raising an eyebrow. He took a deep breath and stood straight. Control. That was what he needed. That, and a long cold shower.

"Your rules, huh? And what if I'm not pleased with that?" She asked in provocation, taking a few steps toward him.

"So you want to be pleased?" He grinned at the way he turned it to his advantage and she blushed furiously. "Go home. I'll see you tomorrow." He dismissed her before turning back to gather his art material.

"W-what?" She asked confused, standing there completely dumbfounded.

"Tomorrow." He repeated and she knew it was over. She quickly picked her things up and left, her head still spinning from that radical twist.

Harry heard the door close behind her and let out a big sigh. He ran his hand in his hair, closing his eyes for a moment. He had did it! And seeing the big bulge in his pants, he knew he had made her go just in time. Never on the first time. But tomorrow was another day.

*******

Ginny laid in her bed that night, unable to sleep. Her breathing was slow, her body totally relaxed, but every time she closed her eyes in attempt of falling asleep she saw flashes of what happened that day, while she was with him. In fact, nothing really happened, not concretely, but what she felt… She had never felt a bound so intense with someone in her whole life. Sure, being with Hermione was making her feel good and comfortable and Ron was making her happy, but, with him, that was an whole different thing: he was her brother. She wondered for a second if he had felt the same, but she quickly decided on yes. She just knew he was attracted to her… and it felt so good. She shifted lightly in her bed, enjoying the warm sensation around her body that reminded her of the hot day. She finally fell asleep with all she needed to have sweet dreams.

TBC…


End file.
